The Thing About Pain
by Juliet's Shadow
Summary: After twenty years, Harry's scar starts hurting again.


"Harry, your scar is bothering you, isn't it?" Harry felt the hand of his wife circle around his waist. He looked over his shoulder at her and saw her brown eyes watering. He hated to making her worry. He felt personally responsible for every bit of pain she was ever in. To make her not worry, he did what he thought best. He lied.

"Ginny, it's nothing. I promise. Voldemort is dead. He has been for ninteen years. There is no way he could return." He words did little to relieve his wife. He placed a kiss on her lips, trying to distract himself from the pain that hasn't haunted him in over two decades. "Ginny, he isn't back. I promise."

Harry knew the last part wasn't a lie. Voldemort was dead. He had made sure of it. The year chasing horocroxes was so Voldemort's name would never strike fear into another parents heart. No more children would be orphaned, like himself of his godson, Teddy. He would never have to live in fear for his own children's safety. Now that all three were at Hogwarts, not in his sights at all time, he found himself worrying about them more and more.

His scar hurting was probably nothing more than a memory. "Ginny, if it makes you feel any better, I'll go tell Hermione that it was hurting. Surely she will be able to determine if it is actually trying to tell me something."

Ginny nodded. "Thank you."

Harry kissed his wife goodbye and made his way over to Ron and Hermione's house, popping into the front yard by means of apparation. His knock on the door was answered almost immediately. "Harry!"

Hermione stood in the doorframe, a noticeable baby bump protruding from underneath her robe. It was their third child and, in all honesty, the child was probably conceived accidentally. Still, he knew they would love the child immensely. Harry was excited for his new niece or nephew to be born.

Hermione ushered Harry in, not unlike Mrs. Weasley would have done when he visited his mother-in-law's house, and was forced to sit down, a pot of tea was conjured up on the coffee table and the steaming brown liquid was poured into two separate tea cups. "What is it, Harry?"

Harry hesitated to tell her about his scar, knowing it could very well be bad news, but knew that it would be safer for him to know the existence of the darkest wizard of all time sooner, rather than later. "Hermione, my scar has been hurting me." Hermione looked a bit shocked to hear the statement, but wasn't surprised, judging by her facial features. "It doesn't mean he's back, does it? Voldemort?"

She shook her head. "He can't be back. You killed him. We destroyed every horocroux." This was not what Harry had been hoping to hear.

"What could it mean, Hermione?"

"It could just possibly be lingering traces of magic, Harry. Nothing more."

Magic linger was possible. Dark magic making itself appear again after twenty years could happen. Still, there would have had to be a catalyst. A trigger. Hermione could not answer him when he asked her about it.

Harry bid Hermione good day and went off to tell Ron, seeing if his best mate could find any answers, though he doubted it. If Hermione didn't know, there probably was no way to find out. Still, Harry found himself greeted by buzzing and explosions that made up Weasley's joke shop. Harry was greeted by a smiling George and pointed to where Ron was. Ron was in the offices, concealed behind a large selection of Skiving Snackboxes. Harry had a fond memory of coming here just before James went for Hogwarts. They had gone to Diagon Alley to but James his wand and other school supplies, but James had tried to buy a Skiving Snackbox. He told James he could having anything in the joke shop but one of those. He was not going to allow his son to miss classes.

"Harry? What are you doing here?" Harry turned around at the sound of Ron's voice. Ron had a huge grin plastered onto his face. Working at the joke shop with George was something Ron loved to do. Ron thought his calling had been an Auror, but as soon as he resigned from his position and took over Fred's old position, he realized his true calling.

"Hey Ron," he said. Harry lowered his voice. "I need to speak to you in private, if that is at all possible."

Ron nodded. "Yeah, sure, mate," Ron said. "George, I'm going on my break!"

"Bring me back some lunch, will ya?" George yelled back. Ron agreed and the two went to a newer restaurant that had opened on Diagon Alley.

"What was it you needed to talk about?"

"Ron, my scar was hurting me. Ginny was concerned so I went to see Hermione. She said it could be caused by lingering magic. We know Voldemort was killed. Why is it hurting now?"

Ron thought this over for a bit. "Harry, how long has it been since your parents died?"

Harry thought about this. "Forty years," he said. Ron lit up.

"Voldemort isn't back! Don't you see Harry? Your parents died forty years ago today. The horocrox was made forty years ago. That has got to be the reason."

Harry let out a sigh of relief. He didn't realize today was the anniversary of his parents death.

The two old friends finished their lunch and went their separate ways. Ron promised to tell Hermione that there was nothing to worry about and Harry returned home to Ginny to tell her.

They were relieved. Harry silently thanked his parents for their sacrifice and made a note to write to his own children later that night, promising himself to send them all a letter. He was glad he got to see them grow, something his own parents were robbed of. Everyday, he would be thankful to them.


End file.
